A Fine Line
by Guyana Rose
Summary: Fighting; it's what Rachel Berry & Santana Lopez do. Besides their highly successful careers on Broadway, it's what they're known for. Will things ever change? Brief mentions of Quinncedes & Brittina. Pezberry Week, Day 1: Broadway Rivals.


**Title:** A Fine Line  
**Author:** Guyana Rose  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** Santana Lopez & Rachel Berry  
**Word Count:** 1,899  
**Summary:** Fighting; it's what Rachel Berry & Santana Lopez do. Besides their highly successful careers on Broadway, it's what they're known for. Will things ever change? Brief mentions of Quinncedes & Brittina. Pezberry Week, Day 1: Broadway Rivals.  
**A/N:** I really didn't think I was going to get any inspiration for Pezberry Week this time around; but luckily this happened. So I can say I have at least on story on for this year's Pezberry awesomeness. Hope you enjoy.  
**Prompt:** Pezberry Week, Day 1: Broadway Rivals  
**Disclaimer**: I own only the story itself. Glee belongs to R.I.B.

**Please read & review  
**

* * *

It's a little too early in the morning for Santana; the sun is nowhere near ready to rise. If it wasn't for the lights of the city it would be pitch black outside. Santana wishes she were still in her warm and cozy bed; but she loves her job, obviously more than she loves sleep at the moment. Sometimes it requires her to be up and about in the wee hours of the mornings. Some mornings though, like this morning, she just wants to clear her head.

But still, it's too early. She's been on stage for about an hour practicing the new choreography for one of the bigger scenes in the play she's working on. Despite the hour, she actually likes being at the theatre early; there's no people to annoy her, no bright lights to practically burn her eyes out of their sockets, no costar to work her last damn nerve. It's just her, a few dimmed lights, and the stage. She's been at peace for the past hour; but she knows her good mood will likely vacate the premises soon.

Her costar is now walking down the aisle. Santana sighs quietly to herself and closes her eyes, she knows this particular stage well so she has no fear of misstepping off the edge, as she continues her movements, trying to ignore the unwanted company; it's too early for bullshit.

Rachel doesn't usually come to the theater this early; she tends to stay late after rehearsals, running through her lines and dance moves. She finds it peaceful to be in the theatre all on her own. Not completely on her own; but security doesn't bother her and her beloved stage crew is more like background noise. For some reason though, she couldn't stop herself from coming to the theatre this early morning. She expected to be alone but to her surprise she's not. She walks slowly down the aisle and sits quietly in the front row; watching as her costar dances on stage.

On their best days there are only a few insults tossed back and forth between them. But every once in awhile things get physical. Some rough shoving and a few punches thrown to different parts of their bodies. Only their bodies; because no matter how much they may dislike each other they would never disrespect each other by leaving scratches or bruises on each others' faces. It's an unspoken agreement.

The two women have always argued or been at odds with each other; since grade school it seems. By the time they got to high school it was a well known fact that Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez were most certainly not friends. Towards the end of high school, however, it could be said that they possibly had became tentative frienemies; but neither of them like labels so they never really talked about it.

If they didn't both work on Broadway they would probably not speak at all. Sometimes their interactions aren't even more than a passing glare at each other, but as soon as someone blabs their mouth to the media things escalate. The media always blows things out of proportion. Their last argument was really bad though; and it only started because some reporter twisted Rachel's words and basically printed a lie. Santana finding out about it in a conversation with her abuela most certainly did not help either.

Sitting and watching, and possibly admiring, Santana right now makes Rachel think about her behavior over the years; and quite frankly, she's disappointed in herself. Their disagreements didn't ever have to be so volatile; they both just always seemed to get under each others' skin. There were plenty of people growing up that Rachel didn't like, and plenty more that didn't like her; but Santana is the only one she seemed to battle back and forth with like there was no tomorrow.

Rachel knows that if she sits here long enough Santana will probably think of something sarcastic to say to her; she also knows that she'll have something just as biting to reply with.

That disappointing feeling grows just a little bit more.

Rachel pulls herself out of her head and focuses again on Santana. From the movements that the other woman is doing she can tell what part of the play Santana is practicing. The raven-haired woman's movements aren't meant to be sensual, but Rachel can't help but notice Santana's curves.

If Rachel's honest with herself she has to admit that she's always noticed things about Santana; her smile, her lips, her eyes, her flawless smooth skin, her hair, her powerful voice, her amazing body. Rachel chuckles to herself as she remembers Mercedes saying something to her about the fine line between love and hate. Santana's dancing with her eyes closed as Rachel leaves her seat and heads backstage. The brunette dims the already low lights and makes her way to the stage. Santana's eyes are still closed, so she hasn't noticed the light change.

Rachel's glad she wore shoes that gave her a small boost in height this morning; Santana's shoes are flat and look akin to ballet slippers. This puts them at pretty much the same height. Before she can lose her nerve Rachel quickly, but surprisingly silently, presses herself in to Santana's back as she turns; assuming the place of the partner Santana will have during the actual performance.

Santana only falters for a moment, before she continues to move; eyes still closed. Rachel easily moves with her. Santana is surprised momentarily but then she remembers; she's dancing with Rachel Barbara Berry, of course the woman knows everyone's part and everyone's steps. Oddly enough that knowledge makes her smile inwardly. A drunken conversation she had with Brittany comes to the forefront of her mind. She very strongly disagreed with Brittany's opinions that night but right at this moment, everything her blonde friend has been saying, for years now she grudgingly reminds herself, seems to be falling in to place.

Step by step, little by little, they pull each other just a bit closer; hold each other just that much tighter; until the relatively tame dance becomes quite the sensual sight. By the end of the routine they're both short of breath and just a little overheated. They stand bolted to center stage. Rachel's arms are stationed on Santana's hips while Santana's arms are draped over Rachel's shoulders; their sweaty foreheads are pressed together as their breaths mingle. Slowly they both open their eyes and stare at each other through well sculpted eyelashes.

"I really hate you Lopez," Rachel whispers with a smirk.

Santana chuckles and takes a deep breath; never losing a bit of contact with Rachel.

"I love you too Berry," she replies with a matching smirk.

They seem to have the same idea as they both tilt their heads and sigh in to a soft kiss; both oblivious to the flash of a camera phone from the balcony.

* * *

Opening night is a success. Both the afternoon and evening shows sold out. The weather is nice and after the evening show the cast does the usual photo taking with fans and signing playbills. Security has to step in once or twice to take care of some of the overly enthusiastic fans, but otherwise it's a mostly pleasant experience.

"Miss Berry! Miss Berry!"

Rachel turns her head to a young man that looks like he's still in high school when she hears her name called.

"Have you seen this? I bet Lopez' people paid somebody to do this," the boy says angrily.

Rachel holds the copy of The National Enquirer that the boy handed her and reads the caption under the rather large but somewhat pixilated picture of her and Santana kissing center stage.

Inwardly she smiles as she remembers their first kiss; on the outside though, she looks pissed. Her scheming mind figures Santana will enjoy giving the press, who happen to be standing nearby, a show that they can run with.

A few feet away Santana is signing autographs. Her smile slowly fades when she hears her name yelled. Inwardly she's cackling because the look in Rachel's eyes as she approaches her is nothing but pure mischief.

"What the hell is this?" Rachel asks as she thrusts the tabloid into Santana's hand.

"The … absolute worst picture I've ever seen," Santana answers after looking at the cover.

All around them they can hear whispers of people predicting who'll start yelling first or who will throw the first punch.

"That's exactly what I think," Rachel says.

"Don't you think our fans deserve better?" Santana asks playing along as if she'd read Rachel's mind.

"Absolutely."

Rachel was the first to step forward. She grabbed Santana's belt buckle and pulled the other woman into her personal space. Santana wasted no time palming Rachel's cheek and pulling her in to a very passionate kiss.

Camera flashes, loud gasps, and surprisingly quite a bit of cheers filled the space around them; but they didn't hear any of it. For the few moments that their kiss lasts, they are the only two people in existence.

"Huzzah!"

"Oh can it you two."

"Unfucking believable."

A few feet away from the bulk of the crowded stage door Brittany and Mercedes are laughing at their girlfriends while patting each other on the back.

"Don't hate the playas," Mercedes starts.

"Hate the game," Brittany finishes.

"Now remind me, how much money do we get?" Mercedes asks with her voice dripping of sarcasm.

"And you totally owe us a day at the spa," Brittany adds.

Quinn and Tina both roll their eyes and decide to finish waiting for their kissing friends in the limo they rented.

"Twenty some odd years," Quinn says.

"And they couldn't wait one more fucking week," Tina states.

"They're such bitches sometimes."

"I know!"

Mercedes and Brittany can do nothing but laugh. They know their girlfriends aren't really that upset, they just don't like losing.

After humoring a few of the reporters by vaguely answering some questions Rachel and Santana joined their four friends for a much needed night out; happily braving the wrath of Quinn and Tina for not waiting another week to finally see what all of their other friends have been seeing all along.


End file.
